


Why Natasha Loves the Fall

by shaneequa



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Gift Giving, Holidays, Presents, and clintasha kids!, just some fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 20:36:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaneequa/pseuds/shaneequa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha loves the fall because of the weather and the leaves, and memories that they come with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Natasha Loves the Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TLvop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TLvop/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel. The characters, cities or whatever else that is copyrighted and trademark that appears on any of my fanfiction. I'm only a poor college student who spent all her money on books.
> 
> Author's Note: Just a thanks for TLvop who got me the invite to this site! I hope you like it!
> 
> (This is my first post on AO3! Eeep!)

It was a perfect fall day, where the leaves turned a hue of red, yellows, and oranges, fallen from the tree and scattered all over Central Park. It was, if Natasha had to admit which she never will, Natasha's favorite time of the year. For one, the weather was perfect. Being Russian did not make her immune to the cold, it just let her know how to _prepare_ herself for such freezing temperature which New York gets in the middle of winter. Another reason was the beautiful colors that the season brought it with.

Natasha always did like the fall.

But then her third reason made her _love_ it.

She loved the fall because for Americans, it started the holiday season. There was two major holidays: Thanksgiving and Christmas, both of which she had refused to celebrate until Clint _made_ her.

Thanksgiving was a holiday that revolved around a cooked turkey dinner, mashed potatoes, football, a parade, and family. Growing up in Russia, she was not overly fond of turkey or _American_ football. She liked mashed potatoes because it reminded her of a time when she was an innocent young girl with regular thoughts and wishes. Her mother, or someone she thought was her mother, would make mashed potatoes and sprinkle cheese on top. Parades were alright for her, preferring to watch it on the television because there _always_ is a million people attending and her never felt safe with that many people around her.

A decade and a half after her deflection, she _still_ didn't get the concept of _American_ football, no matter how many times Clint has sat down with beer and chips trying to explain to her the American way. _They don't use their feet_ , she argued with him. That was the end of it.

What struck her about Thanksgiving was family. It was her first year, she had only been working  for the Americans for about nine months, and the only person that would actually talk to her was Hill, because she had to, Phil, because he's her handler, and Clint, who was ordered to leave her alone for her training but disobeyed that order too.

She figured early on that Clint was a stereotypical American who she despised when they walked around Europe like they owned the damn place.

But she warmed up to the man, and she realized that she had her first friend on that first Thanksgiving.

He took her out of the base where they held her for almost a year evaluating her royalties to the country. He brought her to his place where he prepared stuffed turkey, salad, and mashed potatoes. They drank wine and exchanged stories; she told him a few things she remembered about her life as they sat on opposite sides of the sofa watching the game and the parade.

She realized then that she has never willingly spent so much time with someone, just to spend time with them. There was no pretense of a mission, or work. With Clint Barton, she could just be Natasha Romanoff, or even Natalia Romanova, and it didn’t really matter.

But it still surprised her when he turned from his seat and asked her if she wanted to spend Christmas with him. Babbling on about a tree and hot chocolate laced with her favorite vodka to spice things up, presents and snow. She smiled, a small smile, and nodded her head.

Three weeks later, at an old cabin in the snowy, deserted, mountains of Colorado, Clint handed her a gift. She was surprised at first, embarrassed if she would admit. She did not think of giving him a gift. She told him so but he shook her statement off with a smile and prompted her to just “open her damn gift” before he changes his mind and takes it back. Jokingly, of course.

Natasha was very timid opening her first present. She unwrapped the paper slowly, smiling contently as a small piece of a white cardboard box peaked its way out of the badly wrapped gift. The small box made her anxious and then, she was ripping off the paper wrapping like it was laced with poison.

She opened the white rectangular box and gasped.

 It was a small doll with ballerina shoes and a tutu. The doll's hair was fiery red and green eyes.

 _He remembered_.

She told him about the time when she was young and with the Red Room. She had her first assignment which was to act as a distraction while older girls stole something from someone. The mission was a success but she got punished. She was distracted by the beautiful doll she saw at the window. The doll had red hair and green eyes, like her. But unlike her, the doll was free. The doll was a ballerina like Natalia had always dreamed of becoming, because dancing made her feel free.

She held onto those two memories like they were the most valuable secrets in the world. The doll, while she doesn't have it anymore resides somewhere else, in the arms of a little girl with sandy blond hair and her bright green eyes who was currently jumping into a pile of leaves.

"Come on, Nat! It's great!" Clint shouted from where he lay next to their daughter, all of four years old and as stealth as a spy. Their daughter giggled in the leaves taking a handful and throwing them up in the air, much like she does when she plays in the snow.

Natasha shook her head content to watch her family. The beautiful scenery of New York's Central Park, the crisp cold weather of fall, and the laughter of her daughter as the little girl ran to her to take her hand and drag her to the pile of leaves.

"Jump in like this, Mama!" the girl instructed jumping into the pile of leaves first with a squeal, then looking up expectedly at her mother standing away from the leaves. "Come on Mama!"

Clint walked up behind her giving her a little shove, throwing their daughter a wink.

Natasha smiled giving her husband a kiss before carefully jumping into the pile of leaves with her daughter throwing some leaves in her way. Clint jumped into the large pile after her, putting his arms around her waist and giving her a kiss.

"I have something to tell you," Natasha whispered in his ear keeping a watchful eye on their daughter who was still in the same pile of leaves rolling around and entertaining herself.

Natasha was planning to wait, another month or so before telling Clint about the news. But she figured that she needed to add a few more memories to _her_ fall collection.

"What's up?"

"I'm pregnant."

 


End file.
